


The First Day of Spring

by fantasychica37



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasychica37/pseuds/fantasychica37
Summary: Today in Middle-earth, 3-1-(30)19, Aragorn turns 88 - and receives gifts even on the road.





	The First Day of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Estel- “hope”, name given to Aragorn as a boy to hide him from the Enemy  
> Imladris- Rivendell in the original Sindarin  
> nín- “my”

The Three Hunters walked through Fangorn Forest, still alert and driven by peril but for the first time in weeks illuminated by hope.  
“Do either of you remember what day it is?” asked Gimli suddenly.  
“Well, we took leave of your fair lady on the fourteenth...” said Legolas teasingly, stopping and opening his pack.  
Aragorn looked annoyed at the sudden stop. “What on earth are you doing, Legolas?”  
“...and we were twelve days on the river, and four days in pursuit of our friends,” continued Legolas breezily, as if Aragorn had not spoken, “so that would make today...” He trailed off, looking confused, stilling his hands in his pack.  
“I suppose... March the first?” suggested Gimli, looking equally confused. Aragorn looked between them, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.  
“I think you are correct, Master Dwarf!” exclaimed Legolas with an exaggerated smile, pulling an envelope out of his pack with a dramatic flourish.  
“And that means- oh!” cried Gimli, his eyes sparkling. “Happy birthday, Aragorn!”  
Aragorn blinked.  
“Eighty-eight,” said Legolas proudly. “Soon you'll be a man grown!” The Elven age of full maturity was one hundred.  
“What were we ever thinking, letting a mere eighty-eight-year-old come on such a dangerous journey?” Gimli marveled, chuckling.  
“Thank you, my friends,” Aragorn said, smiling and laughing for the first time in weeks. “Legolas, did you truly bring me a birthday present all the way from Rivendell?” he asked incredulously.  
“'Tis not from me, as I was only told of your birth date the morning we left Imladris, but it appears that I did,” Legolas answered smugly. ”It is a lucky thing that your family only wished to send letters, else I would have had to leave it behind on the banks of the Anduin!” When Aragorn had told them to leave everything behind that they could.  
His eyes glittering, Aragorn took the envelope, which read “For Estel” in Arwen's looping hand, from Legolas's outstretched hand and broke the seal of Rivendell on the back.  
Inside were five pieces of paper covered on both sides in Elvish script, addressed to “My son”, “Little Brother”, “Lost Hope” (really, “Lost Estel”, as the Tengwar script had no capital letters and no way to distinguish names from words; Aragorn wondered if Elrohir and Bilbo would ever stop mocking him), and “Estel-nín”. The fifth paper was covered in short notes from various Elves of Imladris who had known Aragorn since before he could remember.  
Aragorn knew there was no time to read the letters right then, but he looked through them, to savor the beloved signatures. Elrond's letter ended with, “May you keep hope alive. All my love, Elrond.”  
Aragorn pressed the letters, and then Legolas and Gimli, close to his chest.  
And if his father and brothers and even his promised wife were outdone that year by his soon-to-be grandmother-in-law, whose birthday present was to come upon him in the woods that very day with a new light but the same old reassurance in his eyes, Aragorn cherished their gifts no less.


End file.
